The Legendary Captain America
by NursingSchoolGrad
Summary: Steve is Manny's new Spirit of Freedom and nothing - not even crashing in the Arctic - is going to stop him from fighting the Third Reicht. But he'll need other American legends backing him up. Rated T for WWII.
1. Chosen and Frozen

**I don't own the copyright to Captain America or Rise of the Guardians. This is purely a fan story for the enjoyment of fans of both series. Spoilers for the content of both movies. No romance except for Steve missing Agent Carter. Rated T for World War II fighting. Posted June 10, 2016, written by NursingStudent.**

* * *

 **Chapter One: Chosen and Frozen**

 **(Pretend Comic Cover Image: Captain America and the moon.)**

Steve Rogers began as what some might call less than a man. He grew up with the empty plate of the Great Depression and by the time the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor he still hadn't made up the difference. Although some would say Steve had many reasons to be disgruntled with Uncle Sam, the courage he learned as a poor kid in New York City propelled him to something greater. Every day, his fellows were drafted into the armed services and many were terrified of the War. But Steve believed in giving freedom to all, and his courage and belief in something greater than himself drove him to the nearest army recruiting station.

The first man he saw was an army doctor. Steve's manners seemed to impress the man until he asked Steve to remove his shirt. One look at the sunken ribs together with the lack of height branded Steve's file with: "REJECTED."

But Steve didn't give up; he had a strong will. One morning, after applying under fake names at three Army recruitment stations and being rejected by all of them, he returned home. His mom and the neighbors across the street were waiting on him and his sister to get back for dinner. The evening's conversation centered on his sister's achievements in the recycling projects she had begun with her pupils at school to help the war effort. One neighbor joked that his sister was helping fight Hitler more than he was and everyone, except Steve, laughed. For unknown reasons, even though Steve had a job and had worked hard in school, especially in history, people thought his skinniness must result from laziness.

Then came that fine day when Steve Rogers was finally recruited by the army, experimented upon, and transformed into the muscular war hero: Captain America. The weak made strong. The poor with fame. A man whom Hitler would have called unfit to live made into iron.

And Steve fought well, he formed a team with another soldier, Bucky Barnes, and they stormed the European Continent, fighting Nazis and bringing courage to the hearts of worn-out soldiers. Back home his sister, mother, and even his neighbor couldn't be more proud. Then came that twisted day when Cap and Bucky had attempted to stop a booby-trapped plane, and Bucky had been killed in the explosion. Steve felt he had failed, but his Commander told him there was nothing he could've done and sent him a man who looked sort of like Bucky to take his sidekick position next to the "Symbol of Victory" that people insisted Captain America was.

Soon, Steve was forced to pretend this stranger was Bucky and everything was back to business as usual. Then a missile screamed over the horizon and the only way to stop it was to drive it into the depths of the arctic, regrettably carrying Steve with it. Steve had thought that was it.

* * *

"You _are_ Captain America." A voice stated, sounding like a mirror. Steve Rogers found himself with ice caked on his uniform beside a very large hole in the ice sheet he lay stiffly upon. He realized his soaked clothes had frozen to the ice. He would have to be careful not to tear his clothes if he was going to get up. He couldn't see the man who had spoken to him anywhere, it would have been dark since it was now evening except that he was clearly north of the Arctic Circle. Just as he started to pick up his wrist, a glowing concentrated shaft of moonlight washed over him, warming him and dissolving the ice that stuck him to the ground. He stood and shielded his eyes.

"You now be legend." The strange voice began again. It had a very unusual accent, one that Steve could only describe as silver.

"Where are you?" Steve asked.

"Up."

Steve Rogers looked to the starry heavens, but he only saw the stars and the moon. "I can't see you."

"I Man in Moon." Said, apparently, the moon.

Steve ran his gloved hand through his hair. What was happening? Maybe the Nazis had caught him and were trying to make him insane. He had crashed, what if they'd found him? Just then, a paper airplane dropped through the sky. It was written in broken English.

"U Captan America. Brave sol. Deefend ov Freedom. I hav 2 choise. 1 U for get this meeting and wake up in 70 year. 2. U turn lejend and wake up in 70 year no remembering ov tyme of lejend. Pick."

It was tricky for the Moon to speak or write English; that was why he never told Jack Frost much.

Now normally, most people have a problem with being talked to by the moon. The last couple of humans the moon spoke to screamed like banshees. Captain America did not, though.

Steve looked at the paper, crumpling it in his hand and stuffing it into his pocket as an afterthought. No. This must be in his head: hypothermia could give people hallucinations and it could cause them to feel paradoxically warm. His enhanced physiology could keep his brain going longer than normal below the icy water, this was why the moon was talking to him. He hoisted his shield, trudged to the side of the chasm in the ice, and saw the metal wreckage underneath the water. He then walked south, toward the place the missile had been headed. To Washington D.C. His dream could take him there before he died and maybe he would be able to relive his old memories of the city in the time left. He had always liked history.

Now, before it is said that Steve must not care about his family, he did, but he was certain they would've gotten the knock on the door by now, and even if this was a hallucination, he didn't want to see them grieve. He would see them again in Heaven anyway, even if it took one-hundred years for them to catch up to him.

After a couple of miles he began to wonder why the time was passing so evenly; if this was a dream, he should be skipping the boring parts. He began to run, he found he could run faster than before – he must have been going two-hundred miles per hour. The wind whistled in his ears as his red boots pounded the powdery snow peppering the ice, sending up a backlash of snow.

He barely noticed the edge of the icecap he was coming to. He immediately tried to stop, falling sideways on the ice to break his slide, but at two-hundred miles per hour it is hard to brake and with his gloves tearing grooves in the ice, he sailed into the frigid waters.

"Ho, there!" A Russian voice sounded from the sky, and the jingling of bells and clipping of cloven hoofs hit the icecap with a spritely air. A sleigh followed the reindeer's landing and screeched to a halt as the driver put on the ice pick brakes. A huge man leaped out, steadying himself with a sword stabbed into the icy ground. With a rope attaching him to his sword hilt, he lay flat on the edge of the ice and held out a hand to Captain America. "Grab hold, I know you see me."

Steve grabbed the strange man's hand as he helped him out of the Arctic Ocean. He coughed and shivered as the big man in the red coat with brown bear fur trimmings brought him over to his sleigh. He dazedly stepped in before nodding off; he didn't even notice when the sleigh began to fly.

The big man in the sleigh was North, known to many as Saint Nicholas, Santa Claus, or Father Christmas. He was a couple thousand years old and had a ton of experience. For example: though most grown-ups couldn't see him normally, he knew they usually saw him if they were in dire need and he was the only helper available. North was a Guardian and a Legend. He never aged and he dedicated his life to serving children, sporadic superheroing, and international air mail. Today taking his reindeer up for exercise had resulted in the unusual occurrence of the last two. But he knew it would not be good to take an ordinary human to the North Pole, so with an apology to Dasher, he jingled the reins, and on they soared, to New York City, which he assumed was the Capitol of the United States since he made so many deliveries there every Christmas.

* * *

A/N: _I found it interesting how Captain America and Jack Frost have similar points in their backstories and thought, "What if Captain America wasn't just under the ice all those years, what if he had another job, like Jack Frost? What if Jack looked up to him as this unattainable example of bravery and sacrifice?_

 _The summary of Steve's actions is for this story, it does not completely correspond to the movie or comics._


	2. Oh say, can you see?

**I don't own Marvel or Rise of the Guardians and I'm not getting paid for this story. Posted, June 16, 2016. Written by Nursing Student.**

 **(Pretend Comic Issue Cover Image: Captain America hidden by the dust of battle and the Flag, Jack's shadow against Flag.)**

* * *

Captain America awoke the next morning wrapped warmly in a Siberian strength blanket on a balcony to an apparently vacant apartment. He could hear people talking in the alleyway below, and shaking out laundry. It was a warm morning and he scrambled out of the blanket, wondering where it had come from and he'd had the strangest memory that it came from Santa Claus. Then everything last night must have been a dream. He sighed in relief and pocketed the surprisingly foldable blanket. Using his enhanced strength to jump from one balcony rail to the next, he reached the fire escape and hurried down. However he'd gotten on that balcony, one thing was certain: he was late for reporting in to duty.

He ran to the secret alley, jumped in the grimy manhole, jogged through a maze of sewers (yes, he'd cleared the alligators and pythons out some time ago), released the secret door through a series of rapid combinations, entered a basement corridor, entered more combinations into a radio, and creaked open the portrait of George Washington on the wall and entered inside. He had to do all this to get into the secret government base because as a now highly recognizable figurehead, he couldn't walk in the normal entrance. Usually they brought him in an automobile with darkened windows, so he wouldn't have to go through this.

He strode forward, passing plain offices to the right and left, before knocking on #29.

"Please open the door." He heard his Commander's voice through the glass, as a tall brown haired man opened the door and looked past him down the hallway. Captain America did not notice this odd behavior and walked with a straight back into the office and saluted the Commander.

But the Commander did not respond.

Instead he spoke again to the brown haired man. "Who was it?"

"I didn't see anyone, sir."

"Strange. Anyway, I was explaining to you the situation." Captain America saw a shadow pull at the Commander's face. "Captain America is missing in action."

"With all respect, sir," Cap burst in. "I'm here."

But the Commander took no notice. "If the American people find out, they may lose hope. In addition, the finance committee will have to find a new way to sell war bonds. That is where you come in."

The brown haired man seemed to loom higher.

"You will be Captain America."

The private flinched.

"You have a very similar face, with hair dye and a special suit everyone will think you are he."

"I can't take his place."

The Commander looked down, and sniffed abruptly. "Sir, you will not be Ste – um – Captain America. You will be acting a role. Even Rogers did not feel entirely comfortable with the costume."

"Sir, I cannot…" He resolved at a stern look from the Commander. "I will, sir."

"Thank you. Remember, you must tell no one what we have said. We will rendezvous in D.C. tomorrow. You may go."

"Thank you, sir." And the young replacement marched out of the office.

"Commander," began Steve, "Unless they've replaced you with a robot, you know I'm here." But the man continued to look at his papers. Steve waved a hand in front of the Commander's grim face. That still didn't work. Finally he tried to place his hand on top of the Commander's, but it never felt anything, it went through the Commander's hand until it bumped the desk underneath. The desk he was resting his hands on was real. He picked up a folder off the table, and the Commander absent mindedly grabbed it back. Then he stared momentarily at the folder.

"It's stress, stress." The Commander grumbled to himself.

Steve Rogers creaked open the door and stumbled out. How could his Commander not see him? He began to wonder if the man was a hologram when another man in uniform walked right through him.

He couldn't be a ghost; he didn't want to be a ghost. If he had to die, he wanted to see his family and friends he missed, ask God questions, and have meaning. Plus, he didn't even believe in ghosts or haunted houses. He slumped against the wall, taking some courage in the fact that he didn't slide through it. Then he rose to his feet.

It would be vain to describe how he attempted to be seen by the others at the military base. His heart broke as he eventually left the base from the front door – after all, no one could see him. The crowd on the street took no notice of him as he stood there in his red, white, and blue garb. They walked right past him and worse.

* * *

Near midday, his boots squeaked as he wandered down a lonely neighborhood feeling sorry for himself.

"Captain America!"

He turned, a young boy on a porch had called to him.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were fighting the Nazis!"

"Well, I was, but not now." He walked over to the boy. The lad had dark hair and eyes. He seemed to be a little listless. "What are you doing out of school?"

"I have a fever." The boy said.

Captain America sighed, was he only going to be seen by people with fevers now?

"Are you really Captain America?" The boy asked.

In response Cap strode over to the curb and hoisted a car above his shoulders, causing an open-mouthed stare. Soon the boy, Isaac, asked Cap to recount many stories of the War, acting them out with Isaac's set of paper soldiers he had made.

By the time children began to shout to each other as they walked home from school, both Cap and Isaac were quite cheerful. It had been ages since Cap had been able to relax and reconnect with the America he had protected.

"Great Scott!" Shouted another boy, "It's Captain America! Hi, I'm Lars."

"Pleased to meet you, Lars." Cap shook the boy's hand, and the boy looked at Cap's red glove with awe.

The boys had Cap demonstrate his super strength by lifting more cars, then a third boy hollered.

"How are you making that car move?"

"We're not!" Yelled Isaac. "It's Captain America!"

"But he's only a comic book character. He's not real."

Cap walked over, smiling at the new boy. But the boy took no notice, in fact, this new boy walked right through him.

"I- I," stammered Isaac, "You looked real."

"Ya, I shook your hand." Lars reached for the glove again, but as he touched it, Cap vanished from Lar's sight, and Lar's fingers drifted through Captain America's.

And Steve backed away, tripping over a bicycle. The other boys were now telling Isaac how he must've seen a hologram or an enemy spy… It didn't matter. A chill crept over him like an icy snail slinking up the ridges of his backbone and he almost reached to whip out that Siberian blanket.

"You'll get used to it." A man's voice said above his head. Steve looked up and saw a boy, about fourteen, slouching in an apple tree and munching an apple. The lad's hair was as white as a bald eagle's and he was skinny and pale and garbed in colonial style. "But, as soon as you become a legend, you know, make a name for yourself, everything will change and almost _all_ the children will see you."

"How long will that take?"

"I don't know, it hasn't worked for me yet." The boy's deep voice gulped.

"And you've been trying one or two years?"

"More than two hundred." The boy said, waving a wooden shepherd's crook and knocking a green apple off the tree, as if neither his revelation nor the apple mattered.

So that was why that old voice was paired with the youngster. He was over two-hundred-years-old if he was telling the truth.

"And – you're human?"

"No." Said the boy, smiling.

"Guardian angel?"

"I'm a little lower than the angels; I'm not even a Guardian."

"Huh?"

The boy slid off of the branches a leaped with the ease of a deer toward Steve. He held out his shepherd's crook. "Grab hold." Steve did as commanded and soon they soared out of the neighborhood, over the trees, toward the tall buildings of the metropolitan district of New York City. And as they traveled, the boy held out his hand into the wind. Blue ice crystals formed in his hand's wake, shining in the full light of the afternoon sun. They seemed to condense the surrounding air, and a huge fluffy cloud was billowing behind them. Steve noticed the air underneath the cloud seemed thick, it was snowing, snowing though it must be in the seventies. But before Steve could ask about this, they were slowing down and Steve's boots hit the roof of a building. It was the Empire State Building.

"I'm the Legendary Jack Frost." The boy on the edge of the roof, looking down at the cars below.

Steve hardly heard him for a second, he was staring at the snow still falling from the cloud behind them. "And you swear that all of this is real? That I'm not dreaming?"

"You're not dreaming. Incidentally, Santa Claus, the Groundhog, the Tooth Fairy, The Great Pumpkin, and that annoying Easter Bunny are all real too."

"And the moon?"

"Yep, the Man in the Moon is real."

Steve rummaged through his pocket, the paper that was seemingly given to him by the Moon was still there. He told Jack Frost most of what had happened since he crashed in the Arctic – except for his experience at the Base – that was undoubtedly classified.

"So, you _were_ chosen too. And out of the ice, like me!" Jack jumped a few feet in the air, and it appeared that he forget to fall back down.

"So I'm not dead. Good." He breathed a sigh of relief.

"No you're not. You're just not human anymore. At least, though, you do have some experience, being human. I wasn't anyone before I was Jack Frost! Maybe that's why I can't get anyone to see me."

"I can see you."

"You don't count," the boy explained. "…Unless… Have you ever seen me before?"

"I don't think so."

Jack seemed lost in thought for a moment. Steve looked out at the view below. Cars, trolleys, and people were going every which way. In his mind, he began to plot out the safest route for his men, as if he was still fighting the War. It was strange how he was going back to his war experiences to calm himself _. Why on earth would the Man in the Moon need a soldier?_


	3. American Dream

**Chapter Three: American Dream - Posted June 30, 2016 by Nursing Student (I don't own Captain America or Rise of the Guardians.)  
**

 **(Pretend Cover image: Steve and Jack at Statue of Liberty)**

* * *

Captain America's boots clanked on the boards of the pier. He leaped over a milk cart whose driver couldn't see him, flipped in mid-air after tripping on a sack of potatoes, and jumped after the spy who was escaping by tugboat. He felt like a cartoon character as he missed the boat by a foot and splashed into the water. With a crunch, he banged into the hull of the tugboat, wondering what had stopped it.

"Let's play a game of freeze tag! I'm it!" Came the voice of Jack Frost from the deck.

Steve grabbed at the mooring, pulling himself out of the cold New York City harbor by the anchor's chain. Putting one sopping gloved hand above the other he climbed up the side. He crawled over the railing just as Jack froze the spy in mid-stride, in a half-block of ice. An ice-berg rested against the opposite side of the ship.

"Ve never had storms as this in Deutschland!" Cried the spy, teeth chattering as Jack smirked proudly at his "catch".

"I'll take that!" Captain America grabbed the spy's long rolls of paper – plans to the new radar scrambling submarine.

"Captain America!" Snarled the spy, "You were listed as dead!"

"That's classified information." Jack put in, unheard by the spy.

"You vill never defeat the Third Reicht!"

"I think we just did." Captain America grimly grinned.

"You may have captured me, but two more vill take my replace. Hail Hyd-" Happily, the spy didn't finish his rant, his voice cut off by an overhanded snowball.

Steve and Jack pried the door open to the cabin, and steered the tugboat to the Coast Guard.

"Well, you're not so invisible anymore." Jack smiled, slightly jealous. "At least the criminals can see you."

"They have to, one good punch in the jaw, and people other than you exist."

"Why criminals, though." Jack snuck a peek back at the spy, "You're supposed to be seen by the people you protect."

"It has been said," Steve began, rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger, "… that: 'Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot.' They see what they fear."

When the tugboat arrived, Jack froze it solid in the water; leaving the submarine plans near the spy, Steve jumped onto the shore and rapped on the door. As soon as he heard someone coming to the door, he ducked around the side of the building with Jack Frost, as they peered through lobster netting to make sure the spy was imprisoned.

"Well, would you look at that," said one of the men rubbing his head and picking up the plans. "Someone up there must like us… One Hydra spy, all bound, gagged, and captured."

As the men gathered 'round, and Steve and Jack began to walk away. They hadn't gone far when thumping footsteps clopped up behind them.

"I saw you!" A young, 18-year-old soldier held his arms wide with shock at seeing Captain America. "You brought in the spy!"

Captain America smiled.

"... You're still doing the grunt work while your 'double' gets all the fame. I'm glad to know you're a real man." The soldier, John, smiled, and waved towards their building, "Come on in, we're about to have dinner."

Two of the soldiers were packing the spy into a truck, and Steve and Jack followed the John into the Coast Guard's small office, that had a few attached rooms. Most of the Coast Guard ate in the mess hall, but it was dinner duty for John and another soldier, Nate, today, so they were eating in the kitchen. Nate was hunched over a small stove. "Hey, Nate," John said, "You'll never believe who I met today."

"No I won't." He picked up a potato.

"Captain America." The soldier said, clearly expecting Nate's excitement.

"Uh-uh. You know, John, people call me cynical for a reason." Nate hadn't even looked up from tossing the potato chunks into the pot.

"Cynical is not always a bad thing," Steve interjected, "but it can keep you from the best parts of life."

Nate twisted around, the potato knife slipping out of his hands, his long torso pulling the shoulders of his uniform to the limit. "You know, for a big guy you're awfully quiet! I didn't see you for a minute there!"

Dinner came ten minutes later and Steve surreptitiously snuck a plate over to Jack Frost. He would've tried to tell them Jack was there, but with his own fragile grip on visibility, he dared not increase the length of the leap of faith. Jack, however was preoccupied with having fun: he wasn't going to just stand back and not be part of the action.

"Sir," Nate said to Steve. "What's it like being Captain America?" Nate reached over to the bowel of wheat rolls and blinked when he noticed they had been stacked like a house of cards.

"Oh," said Steve. "That's kind of tricky to say, you see, at first I was travelling around the country in war bond rallies, but after a bit, they let me go on a European tour."

"Sounds fun." John said jokingly, reaching for the salt and seeing a jar of sugar cubes in its place.

"After that I visited my fellow countrymen and their friends that had been greatly persuaded to seek lodgings owned by the rich and elite personages of Germany. However, upon finding them, I realized they felt constrained by the social requirements placed upon them. I thereby secured passage back to headquarters." Steve said, taking a long sip from his water glass.

"I heard about that," Nate said. "The first big thing you did – written about in almost all the papers."

"Our German hosts thought it necessary to celebrate our departure with massive amounts of fireworks and gunpowder." Steve said, trying to keep a straight face as Jack placed a fan-folded napkin on John's hat, attaching it with the napkin ring.

"But that was months ago, what've you been doing now?" Nate asked.

"Shh! He can't talk about that!" John said, shaking his head and then feeling his hat after a napkin fell off of it and into his potato soup.

Using the excuse of government confidentiality, Captain America was able to avoid speaking of the particulars of his situation. He relished once again eating a warm meal; the cold leftovers he and Jack nabbed before they reached the restaurant dumpsters were scarce with the wartime rationing. Steve Rogers didn't have to eat as much as when he was human – apparently he and Jack Frost could both absorb moonbeams for energy – but the moon was waning, and he missed the ritual of mealtimes.

They thanked the Coast Guard for the meal and parted, Steve still smiling as they walked down the alley, but their fortune was not to last.

* * *

 _"Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot." - Go Batman! and cookies to whomever caught that reference!_

 _Also, thanks to Puella Pulchra for asking if Jack's antics would get on Steve's nerves. I went back and added a couple more things to this chapter to make Jack have more fun!_

 _Read and Review!_


	4. Lincoln's Ghost

**I don't own Captain America or Rise of the Guardians and am not paid for this fanfic. Posted July 16, 2016 by Nursing Student**

 **Chapter Four: Lincoln's Ghost**

 **(Pretend Cover Image: Jack perched on giant penny Steve is holding.)**

Steve Rogers felt as if he had traveled back in time. He stood outside his apartment building, fists and jaw clenched in awkwardness. In the upper window, the blue star had been exchanged for a gold one. Swallowing, he pulled the string to the doorbell. He heard the clatter of heeled shoes behind the door. There was a pause and the door opened: his mother wearing an apron, her hair disheveled, gazed through him, looking for the caller. "Hello?" She asked, stepping outside, her arm slid through him, a black armband encircling it. She retreated into the house. Steve longed for his mother more than he ever had on the other side of the planet.

Arrested by gloomy thoughts, he stepped backward and heard a crumpling sound under his feet. He turned and gasped at the headline of the haphazardly dropped newspaper at his feet.

 **"** **CAPT. AMERICA DEAD"**

There, in the big bold heading of The Daily Bugle was Steve Roger's sentence. Now, try as he might, people would never believe in Captain America.

 _"_ _Captain America, a heralded 'Super-soldier,' is presumed dead after the Stark Corporation salvaged Hydra technology from the missile plane sunk before its weapons could reach Allied targets. Although the United States Government will not confirm his death, witnesses found Captain America's helmet in the wreckage. This, together with the recent claims from Germany of Captain America's demise, his war-bond selling replacement, and radio interference heard by many in Newfoundland before the plane crashed, testify to this tragedy…"_

"I…" Steve stumbled away from the building, people walking through him. "How can I convince people I'm real now?"

Jack looked sympathetically at him, perched on a flagpole.

"I'd have to convince so many people…" Steve sighed.

"You'd only have to convince one person." Jack said.

"Who?" Steve asked.

* * *

Jack Frost and Captain America perched on the roof of the Washington Monument staring at the White House.

"Are you ready?" Jack asked Steve, holding out his staff so Steve could grab hold.

"Don't know that I'll ever be." Steve replied.

"C'mon, do you think I would be like 'this' if no one could see me?" Jack asked.

"Define: 'this'." Steve said in a monotone voice.

"This… this... I thought you liked Washington DC." Jack said, perched like a bird on the edge of the pyramidal roof of the Washington Monument while Steve gripped the window ledge.

"I do, but not like this." Steve said. "The last time I was here… there was a parade. I carried a giant flag behind the President's motorcade as the Army Band marched. I was bringing hope to America."

"Hope to America." Jack tried to hide his laughter and wound up snorting.

"What?"

"You know, the thing about hope is," Jack started laughing again, and fell off the building. A second later the he alighted on the roof again with a gust of the wind.

"What, what about hope?"

"You can't actually _see_ it."

Steve grumbled, "Why are you making light of this? This is serious. It's not a joke."

"You don't have to be seen to bring people hope, Steve." Jack said.

"Yes, yes, I do." Steve said indignantly, reaching out his hand. "Let's go."

"Let's have some fun." Jack grinned.

It was not hard for two invisible people to enter the White House, all one had to do was wait for the right doors to open and charm the Scottish Terriers in their spare time. Soon they had made their way to the Oval Office: now the real work began.

Steve paused, his hand on the intricate doorknob; he was never one for attending uninvited. He reached up to knock, but let his arm swing down by his side: if the President wanted to see him, he would. After a couple minutes of indecisiveness, Steve opened the door and stepped into the Oval Office. He could quickly tell it was empty. The only sound came from the grandfather clock in the corner. The carpet muffled Steve's boots and afternoon sunlight lazily peeped through the tall tree-shaded windows. Steve was surprised how much the office of the President felt like home after his toils overseas.

"He's at a press conference." Jack Frost said, closing and setting down an appointment book.

"…Oh…" Steve looked nervously over at Jack standing behind the President's desk. "Maybe we should wait over here."

They sat on the couches and Captain America gazed intently at nothing, mind in the past. Jack was bored, propping his feet on the arm of his couch. Steve thought his best bet was waiting here; if he showed up at the press conference, and the President was the only one who saw him, the others would walk through Steve and the President wouldn't believe it was really him. It would be best to wait in the Oval Office for a private conversation.

Perhaps half an hour later the western door near the President's desk silently opened. Captain America motioned for Jack to stay quiet and they both watched as a slender, top-hat adorned man tiptoed into the room, eyes only on the desk. He pulled out a pencil and began to copy the President's appointment book into his own. Captain America carefully crept to the desk.

"Excuse me," said Captain America inches from the man's ear. "But that's not yours."

The man stared into his eyes as Captain America gaped. It was the face of President Abraham Lincoln.

"Whoah!" Jack said, jumping four feet into the air.

"President Lincoln," Steve stammered. "I am honored to meet you."

The man curtly nodded and turned to leave, snatching President Roosevelt's appointment book.

"He's not Lincoln!" Jack yelled, chasing him through the door. Steve skidded to catch up to them.

"He must be a spy!" Steve hollered.

Whomever he was, the fake president knew his way, Jack bounced off the walls to chase him, blocking Steve from throwing his shield. (Of course, Steve didn't know if he would dare to throw his shield in the White House – there were too many things that could be broken.) He charged up the grand staircase, and Jack and Steve arrived on the second floor just in time to see his left foot disappear into the laundry chute. Jack shoved the staff into Steve's arms and jumped in after the spy, yelling, "Snow Day!" Ice covered the metal chute.

Steve opened the chute door and yelled. "Jack, are you okay?"

"Yes!" Jack's echoing voice returned. "But he's not down here!"

"Wait a minute!" Steve looked upwards into the chute. "Jack, he's climbing _up_ the chute!"

"UUGH!" Jack's moan drifted from the basement.

Steve turned and hurried up the next set of stairs, meeting the spy as he painfully forced his second elbow out of the chute. Part of his faux rubber chin was peeling off, having been caught on the side of the chute. It seemed simple, just keep him struggling to get out of the chute while Jack Frost caught up to help him. He glanced down the hallway to see if Jack was coming for a second... he felt the spy's shoulders moving, he looked down and was struck in the face by an odd smelling spray. He slammed into the wall and slid to the floor.

* * *

Steve Rogers woke up to an ice cube held fast to his forehead by Jack Frost. "What happened?" Steve slurred.

"He knocked you cold and escaped. He rode a Pegasus off the roof, and he still has the appointment book, but we can track him."

"How?" Steve sat a little straighter.

"The President's pen; it has special ink to prevent forgeries. We'll put its ink on a homing map and follow the nearest paper trail out of the Country!" Jack pulled Steve to his booted feet.

"A homing map?"

"How do you think North, you know, Santa Claus, finds all those children that don't write return addresses on their letters?" Jack asked, grinning.

"So we just need to borrow the President's pen?"

"Yep, he's probably still in the press conference…" Jack pulled a folded parchment out of his pocket. He twirled on his heel like Sherlock Holmes, leading Captain America down to the East Wing.

The door was wide open, Jack started through it, pausing five feet away from the President. The President wasn't speaking, but listening to a lady in military uniform speaking before the reporters.

"…He was a man who chose to serve, as strong in character as in physical prowess…"

Captain America gazed at the woman speaking, her curls impeccable as a bird's feathers, brown and gleaming in the light of a photographer. She was agent Peggy Carter.

"…He didn't serve for fame, he fought for freedom. He was a courteous man who left the world a better place than he found it…"

Captain America stepped forward, although resolute, Agent Carter's hand quivered. Steve wanted to cover it in his.

"If Steve, Captain America, could hear this, I would say, 'thank you.'" She breathed sharply as Steve clasped her hand, but a second later it had slipped through.

Steve Rogers peered into her brown eyes one last time, and turned away distraught. He couldn't cling to her like this, "You're welcome." He said, then stepped outside the door.

"Wait!" Jack yelled, "I got it." Jack panted, holding the president's pen while scampering to Steve's side. Steve strode out the North door, his shield pressing on his ribs. When he finally stopped outside the Capitol building, Jack pulled out the pen and marked an "X" on the parchment. The trail had started to lead over the Atlantic Ocean.

"Oh no," moaned Jack. "He's already crossing the ocean… I haven't flown that far before."

"If only we had a plane." Steve sighed.

"Well, actually…" Jack began.

* * *

"This is the _Spirit of Saint Louis,"_ Sacagawea explained in front of them. "Her double resides in the museum, the real one is here."

"The real one?" Captain America asked, he was sure it would be in a museum.

"Yes, but with a few changes… for instance… she's invisible to most humans so you have to watch for other planes…also, one of the gears is stuck on loop-de-loops, but I can't remember which one."

"Anything else?" Jack asked as they climbed aboard.

"Yes, every time you let go of the steering yoke you wind up in Bermuda."

Steve gripped the yoke with both hands.

"As in instantaneously wind up in Bermuda, but that's only when you're flying."

"Thanks." Captain America saluted.

"No problem." The lady replied. "Enjoy your mechanized flight." She smiled, and spun like a ballerina, the fringes of her deerskin dress elongating and turning into huge brown feathers. Her hair clung to her neck and her eyes strayed to the distal corners. Steve blinked, and saw that she had turned into an eagle, strong wings lifting her away toward the empty sky.

* * *

 _A/N: There is a story that British Prime Minister Winston Churchill saw the ghost of President Abraham Lincoln during a trip during WWII to the White House and decided to sleep in the Map Room instead. It makes me wonder if there was a spy who dressed up like President Lincoln so he could sneak into the White House. The reports of ghosts in the White House decreased greatly after the building was completely renovated so it makes me wonder if there were spies pretending to be ghosts._

 _Seriously, it would be a great disguise._

 _We had Agent Carter in this chapter! Yes! And President FDR! And Captain America! And Jack Frost! And Sacagawea! Need I say more?_

 _Read and review!_


	5. Neither Rain, Nor Sleet

_A/N: so I haven't updated in a while, partly due to my new job I got after graduating and partly because I kept feeling I wasn't a good enough writer (and also the invention of free time after nursing school no longer made me feel I HAD to write fanfiction to de-stress). So now I'm writing because I really need to finish this story because the characters deserve to reach the end of WWII and defeat the Third Reicht. That, and I don't want to leave a story unfinished._

* * *

Posted, January 22nd, 2017 by Nursing Student

(I don't own _Captain America_ or _Rise of the Guardians_ and I am not paid for this fanfic.)

 **Chapter Five: Neither Rain, Nor Sleet…**

 **(Pretend Cover Image: Captain America and Jack Frost chasing the postman.)**

 _"_ _They had that special grace, that special spirit that says 'give me a challenge and I'll meet it with joy.'"  
– President Ronald Reagan_

Over the cold murky waters of the Atlantic Ocean charged the _Spirit of Saint Louis._ It was almost as if the plane herself had also joined in the chase and the homing map showed they were gaining on the spy.

After reaching the Continent of Europe, Steve, hands firmly on the yoke, asked Jack, "How did you know it wasn't really President Lincoln?"

"Because I've seen the real one."

Steve quickly glanced at Jack Frost in awe.

"Hey, when you're over two-hundred years old…"

"How… how do you deal with missing your family?" The question burst forth before Steve could remember to hold it back.

Jack gazed out the window. "I've never had one - I've never even been human! I don't even know why I'm here." He prodded Steve's side with his staff. "You're a hero, you've saved people! People have seen what you've done. Everyone respects you."

The admonition was interrupted by a peal of gunfire.

"Not everyone." Steve grumbled, peering out the window to the Enemy Territory below.

"We need to get out of here!" Jack panicked, grabbing his staff, ready to leap out the window.

"Wait." Steve said. "We don't know that they're shooting at us." If they were still invisible they were as likely to be hit outside of the plane as inside it. But that didn't stop Jack from feeling trapped; and it was terrible sitting there, waiting for trouble, as they hurtled toward Germany.

Then a missile barely missed the propeller.

"They see us!" Jack screamed.

"But, they can't… they can't!" Steve said. "Oh no! They probably _can_ see our plane – with radar! We have to throw them off!"

Steve angled the plane so it flew closer to the ground.

"What if they hear the plane?" Jack yelled.

"Shut up! What if they hear _you_?" Steve growled.

"AAH! TOWER!" Jack bellowed.

"What?" Steve's eyes widened, then he threw the plane yoke to the side, grunting. In the process he hit one of the levers.

The Spirit of St. Louis zoomed upward, but it didn't even out the turn, instead it kept the course. It was doing loop-de-loops in the sky. Steve felt the levers in the dark to see which one had moved, finding it, he put it back.

The plane straightened out, but it was flying upside down.

"Just land! I'll fly us the rest of the way!" Jack said.

Soon, they landed in a remote farmer's field. Steve climbed out of the cockpit, grateful to have lost the gunmen and glad to be able to stretch his legs. Praying that no one would see the plane, Steve metaphorically hovered over Jack's shoulder as they looked at the map.

"Hey, look at this!" Jack whispered, squinting at the map in the waning light of the moon. "We're only a couple miles away from the spy."

"Great." Steve said.

Jack grabbed Steve's hand as he zoomed them over the field on the chilly, winter breeze. They were in Germany and the real battle had begun.

The cold air of the Continent blew through Steve as if he was a sieve and he would've pulled North's blanket out if he'd had the courage to let go of the staff Jack Frost carried. He wasn't quite sure how he could be solid one moment and have people walking through him the next, but he was pretty sure he could be wounded just as easily as a so-called "Spirit of Freedom" as he could a super-soldier, and he didn't want to risk his shivering hands slipping and letting him fall to the earth below.

After a few miles, they landed and walked quietly and cautiously, barely able to see the map as the moon's sliver that still glowed in the sky was almost completely covered in dark storm clouds. After a mile of walking, they followed some rail tracks to the large stone building that appeared to be half of a gothic castle, jutting out of the dirt in front of them like a grasping hand. Its towers and bits of rumble torn by this war, and previous wars, and decay, and neglect looked like crooked fingers reaching to the sky to steal away the moon. It was a dismal sight, and Steve had the funny sensation that someone was staring at him.

Jack spied a door on the side of the building and tapped the lock with his staff, causing ice to form into the perfectly shaped key. Grinning, he and Steve tiptoed through, cringing at the rusty creaking of the ancient hinges.

Before them was a narrow hall filled with boxes and bare lightbulbs stringing along the ceiling. Steve led, creeping forward down the center of the hallway, as to avoid crashing into any of the boxes that set haphazardly in the hallway. He tensed, as hinges creaked behind him. Turning, he saw Jack pull open one of the crates.

"What's in it?" Steve asked.

"Appleseed." Jack replied, confused.

Steve opened another box, in it was a trench-coat, a tobacco pipe, and a double-brimmed (deerstalker) hat. A third contained winged shoes and a lightning bolt.

"And straw, lots of it." Jack said, opening the last of the larger boxes.

"Look at this." Steve said, showing Jack the lightning bolt that strobed in the box.

"What is it?" Jack said, prodding it with his staff so as not to electrocute himself.

"I think…" Steve said.

"Boxed lightning?" Jack offered.

"What, like canned laughter?"

"They can _can_ laughter?" Jack asked, eyes wide.

"It's an expression."

"So I'm looking at an expression?" Jack's eyes widened even further.

Steve thought a bit, "Uh, we need to get back to chasing the spy."

"Right." Jack said.

"Remember, we have to be careful, we know that spy can see us."

"Cap!"

"Yes?"

"He's here!"

Steve whirled his eyes around the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

"On the map." Jack pointed. The map had "zoomed-in" now that they were closer and showed a building plan. They could see that the tracking dot was now right where they were.

"He could be in the basement." Steve said.

"Or upstairs." Jack said.

They climbed upstairs first to no avail and thus returned to the hall of boxes where they squinted at the ground, looking for any sign of way down. Finding none, they tried the rooms on either side of the hallway. In one, Jack found a stairwell and they started down the steps. Steve felt they were on the right track, the steps were corrugated steel and weren't dusty, unlike the dingy appearance of the ground level. This was definitely a new installation to the building, it was also noisy, and even the softest footsteps could not be silent.

Jack bent down when he reached the place on the stair where the ceiling of the basement met the steps and looked through the gaping wire railing into the basement.

"Okay," Jack whispered. "There are a couple of guards, but they're looking the other way."

"Human?"

"Think so."

"Then let's go." Steve said, but tightening his grip on his shield just in case. They creeped down the rest of the stair-steps one at a time.

In the basement, Jack pointed to the map and they walked around the guards to get into the next room where the spy was, and Steve tried to ignore the feeling that the blank eyes of the guards were actually staring at him.

The basement room had an old table covered in a number of code books. In the corner, light and smoke came from a fireplace. Bending over the table was the spy who stared at Captain America, distracted from his task of copying of the President's planner.

"Hallo, Captain America," the spy grimly intoned. "I trust you had a good trip. And now, this kid is your new Bucky? Shame about the old one… But then, bringing children into war zones was never commendable."

"You're working for the wrong side." Captain America said, punching the spy while Jack grabbed the planner and copy paper and threw them into the fireplace.

The crack of a gun being loaded echoed behind their heads.

"Hands up!" The guards ordered.

Jack and Steve turned and saw the guards training their guns on them.

"No…" Jack whispered.

Steve was already forming a plan to disarm the guards in his mind, but then he heard the buzz of a radio and ten more guards stomped into the dim basement room, all staring right at them.

"But… but…" Steve sputtered.

"…They're _human._ " Jack finished, just as surprised.

And they barely noticed their world pixelate to black as a burnt, sleepy smell flooded their nostrils.

* * *

R&R


	6. And I, On the Opposite Shore, Shall Be

Posted: March 7, 2018

 **(Cover Image: Steve in a dungeon, two lights shining in the night sky through the bars.)**

Steve knew he wasn't alone.

Breathing and shivers emanated off the cold, stone walls that surrounded him, chilly air winding its way through the straw that had been pushed into the window bars to provide insulation. Steve was in a dungeon cell, surrounded only by three walls, an iron door, and a smelly bucket. His shield was gone, but he could still feel the wrinkle of the Man in the Moon's crumpled letter and the bump of the president's pen in his army fatigue pockets. North's blanket was missing.

Stiff boots clacked on stones and Steve peered through squinted eyelids. He saw a Hydra soldier stride to the iron-gate, wearing North's blanket over his shoulders. The soldier looked at him for a second, then walked down a long hall, clanging a heavy door behind him.

The room was in silence for a minute, as if the others were holding their breaths, were the other people prisoners or were there still Nazis and Hydra agents around? Then, a lone person began to tap on the walls, the pattern varied, but not like a song, the rhythm had no significance to it. Another person tapped in answer.

A throat cleared and then an English accent of high class spoke to him, "Captain America and Jack Frost, I presume?"

"Yes," Steve said.

Two seconds later Jack Frost's worried voice joined in, "I'm here too."

"I'm Steve Rogers, uh, also known as Captain America," Steve said, "and my friend is Jack Frost. He… Is the man who brings winter."

Down the hall someone sneezed, okay, maybe this wasn't the best thing to say in a room that seemed to be full of freezing prisoners.

But the English man on the other side of the wall continued as if no breach of etiquette had occurred. "I am Sherlock Holmes… also gracing our presence are Prometheus, Don Quixote, Mulan, Harriet Tubman, Johnny Appleseed, and Merlin."

Steve blinked a couple times as the significance of these names sunk in, what was he supposed to say to this?

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Steve said.

Various voices chorused around the room, " _El gusto es mio, señor." "Welcome." "_ _您好吗？_ _"_ _How are you doing?" "Good to see you!"_

Jack wheezed through the wall. "Eventually, you'll pick up the other languages. We can learn them a lot faster than humans can."

 _"_ _That's sure true!"_ Johnny Appleseed piped up and it took Steve a few seconds before he realized Johnny was actually speaking in Norwegian. It was like his brain had already figured out what Johnny was going to say and had then deduced which words he was speaking by what he had heard.

Steve chuckled a little, then he got down to business. "Why are we here?"

"We are enemies of the state," Prometheus' crackling voice flickered through the bars. His voice seemed to warm the room. "Holmes, Tubman, Mulan, Johnny, Merlin, and you are all here because your countries are at war with the Axis powers. Don Quixote and I are here because we got involved."

"This is why _mi mamá_ told me never to get involved in a war." Don Quixote sighed.

"Things are worse than we had suspected." Holmes added.

"We never had the full story!" Harriet said. "Germany is financing its war by killing its citizens and working them to death: the Jews, the disabled, the Gypsies."

"And all of us who would fight to protect them." Mulan explained.

"But – here's the good thing – we're immortal." Johnny said. "So it's hard to starve us. Also they don't want to upset the Man in the Moon, so for right now were just prisoners of war."

"It would be nice if they gave us some food." Don Quixote complained.

"At least I tried to help with that!" Johnny said.

"It's going to take those apple trees you planted in your cell years to grow!" Don Quixote said.

"They're special seeds! It wouldn't take so long if it weren't so dark and cold in this cell." Johnny said.

"Perhaps I can help with that." Prometheus said. Then, they heard his warm voice filter through the stones and the metal bars.

 _Seedling tree, pay no heed  
To those who stunt you.  
You will grow, without need,  
Of what they kept from you._

 _Let the frost shelter you,  
And in the darkness shine,  
You will find your savior,  
Even within this mine._

 _In future years you'll live,  
Freed from 'prisoning weeds,  
Except the ones you can't forgive,  
That dwell in misery._

 _Grow now with our strength near,  
And find hope in our sight,  
Friends will come to rescue,  
All of us from this plight._

"That's a rather dismal song." Merlin said. "Look at how long I've waited… King Arthur's probably forgotten all about coming back."

"Well, I did my best." Prometheus said. "Just because I have a glowing and warm, personality doesn't mean I can write music."

"你们看!" [Look!] Mulan said. "The apple tree. It's growing!"

"How about that." Johnny grinned. "Maybe by tomorrow we'll have apple pie!"

"What's it look like?" Harriet asked.

"There are flowers budding all over it and it's as tall as I am." Johnny said.

"Really?"

"Yes, of course," Johnny replied. "You know I'm as honest as honest Abe."

Then they heard footsteps. Loud boots trampled the floor and the iron door swung open, its hinges screeching.

"If I hear singing again, you vill go to solitary confinement!" The German Sargent growled.

And the Sargent set a watch to pace the room, staring evilly at them until night came and the cold shivered them to sleep.

 _Basically, I came up with all these new historical/fictional characters and I'm not sure I got everything the way it should be. My apologies regarding the historical characters that have not been very well researched. I don't own Captain America or Rise of the Guardians._


	7. Sound the Alarm

**Chapter 7: Sound the Alarm**

 **(Cover Image: Steve tugging at the metal bars to his cell.)**

 **Posted October 29, 2018**

Morning came and with it Steve again realized they had to do something. He wasn't brought out of the ice for nothing, after all. If he was going to sit in an uncomfortable prison cell he might as well be re-frozen in the ice. He wasn't sure if there was a guard nearby or not, and he didn't want to get them all in trouble by talking, so he slowly stretched his muscles and tried to invent a plan.

His cell was about seven by three feet. The ceiling towered about twelve feet above his head and at the top was a window to the outside covered by bars that had straw woven in them to hold in heat. He could tell in the morning light that the outer wall was at least a foot thick. He could conceivably jump up there and bend the iron bars out of their sockets, but he would never fit through that small window. Jack possibly could, and maybe some of the other POWs – Steve wasn't sure because he hadn't seen them – but the rest of them would be trapped. He stepped cautiously to the front of his cell. These iron bars weren't too thick for a superhero to pull apart; but could he get all the other prisoners out before the Germans noticed?

Steve's view from the front of his cell wasn't great. He was at the end of a long row of cells. The one directly across from him was empty and he could barely see the doors of a couple of the others. He knew that there was also a heavy metal door to their room and from the voices yesterday, he could hear that the cells were at the end of a long echoing hallway. It seemed that this was the only way out.

But he realized he should also take stock of his allies' abilities.

 _Jack Frost,_ Steve thought, _can control winter and ice._

 _Johnny Appleseed: ability to grow apple trees faster than usual and speak Norwegian._

 _Prometheus: he brought fire to man. Can he control fire? His voice has magical properties._

 _Harriet Tubman: powers of stealth, obviously, but that can't be all._

 _Don Quixote: no idea. Should've studied Spanish in school._

 _Sherlock Holmes: brilliant mind and extremely observant. He's probably noticed a hundred more things about this place than I have._

 _Mulan: don't think I've heard of her, but they wouldn't have locked her up if she was harmless._

 _Merlin: wizard, old…_

The silence was broken by a hollow clunk and Johnny moaned, "OoWw…"

Johnny was apparently still sleeping, but he woke up quickly, mumbling. "I think an apple fell on my head!"

"Shh!" Steve said.

"Oh, the guard left already." Jack said.

"How do you know?" Steve asked.

"Because he woke me up when he shut the door behind him." Jack yawned.

"Anyway, friends, we have apples!" Johnny repeated.

"Apples!" Chorused three voices simultaneously.

"Yessiree!" Johnny said. "Here, I'll try to toss them to you."

A few tense seconds passed as they all tried to figure out when his or her own apple would bounce over to eager hands. It was sad to say, but this would probably be the best thing to happen to them all day. _But not if I can help it._ Steve thought.

"Hey, Johnny," Steve said.

"Yes?" Johnny asked.

"Can you grow a tree in a day?"

"Apparently, when Prometheus helps, but I can't exactly get out of here to find the special apple seeds." He started on a long, rambling lecture about how the apple seeds he brought with him that could grow super-fast could only be found in the wild, rather than on farms, and spoke for a long time. Nobody interrupted him because they were polite and didn't really have anything better to do. Steve, however began to tune his voice out.

Sometime later Steve spoke. "Well, I've been trying to take stock of our abilities. Currently, the only way out of here is through that steel door."

"It doth appear that way." Don Quixote said.

"Well, I can tell you one thing, we're going to escape! But probably not through that door…" Cap scratched at the stubble lining his chin. "Now, with the abilities we all have, there's bound to be a way out if we work together."

"Certainly," Mulan chimed in, "What is your plan?"

"First we've got to break open these cells so we can work together." Steve said.

"No," said Mulan, "first we've got to stop the guards. Prometheus can enchant things with his voice, we should have him enchant the next guard that comes in to let him free. The Germans know about his powers over fire, but not about his voice."

"That's risky," Prometheus said, "I will try when they come but they've been trained not to fall for common tricks – and if they find out we have any possibility of escape they'll kill us immediately."

"Can't he just melt his way out of there right now?" Steve asked.

"No," Prometheus said, "I can control fire – but not when surrounded by mist falling from the ceiling."

"You mean they've counteracted your powers?" Steve asked.

"Of course they have!" Prometheus growled, kicking the bars to his cell. "Do you think I'd just let us all rot in cells for fun? I wouldn't do that; how do you think that I've lived so long and through so many things?"

Sherlock Holmes then spoke up. "Do you mean to say that they didn't do anything to you?"

"Nope." Steve said. He flexed his arms. "I'm not even tied up."

"What?" Everyone else said nearly simultaneously.

"They've blindfolded me by welding an eyeless helmet over me to stop me from utilizing my keen observation." Holmes said.

"They took away my staff." Jack said.

"They stole my library." Don Quixote sighed.

"I'm just a normal human – well as normal as anyone chosen by the Man in the Moon." Mulan said.

"What about you, Merlin?" Jack asked.

"Me, well, I have cataracts. I can't do spells anymore."

"We can read them to you and you could repeat them." Jack suggested.

"You don't understand. Spells are spoken, yes, but I channel the power from my eyes to whatever I am seeing." Merlin replied.

Steve was rather angry after hearing about all the impediments designed by their captors; he got up and yanked at the bars to his cell. They wouldn't budge. Maybe they were made of admantium. He jumped up to the lone window gracing the high wall of his cell, these bars were also admantium. He pulled off the wicker screen. What he saw caused new dismay. The window led outside, to be sure, but they were not in a nameless country field anymore, they were in a Nazi army camp… where patrols goose-stepped in rigid lines. Even when they did get out of the cells, they'd have to fight their way out of the camp.

He sat down and munched on his apple. It came to simple facts, the longer they stayed here, the weaker they'd get. The spirit of freedom couldn't stay imprisoned. Sure, he'd destroyed the president's stolen planner and solved the mystery of the Lincoln impersonator, but was this all that he was woken from the ice for? He'd accomplished more as a super-soldier than as a spirit of freedom.

They waited in a subdued quietness for a time, listening for the door to open. Steve's stomach growled – he wasn't used to eating apples without bread. It was a few minutes and then the steel door creaked open. Heavy, metal boots clanked their way inside. It wasn't just one guard this time, it was a lot of them.

"Ve have given you more than enough time to recognize the rewards of joining Hydra and the Third Reicht." The guard said. "Now you must decide or die!"

A warm, golden voice flooded the room, despite the ultimatum just issued, Steve chilled, thinking how at ease and homely the voice was.

"Please, men," Prometheus said. "We have heard great stories of your hospitality and your immense culture. I am Prometheus, and it has been my pleasure in the years gone by to dine in the ancient halls of Deutschland. If I might inquire, that you might let me feast again, it would be to your honor."

"Oh, yes, of course." The guard said. Steve glanced shocked through the bars as the guard automatically pulled a hunk of bread out of his pocket and tossed it into the cell. It plopped into a puddle under the window.

Prometheus stood and addressed the man as if he were an equal. "I am, obviously, limited by these dreary confines, it is dull to eat bread that is soggy." Prometheus said.

Steve wished he could watch this conversation, instead of just overhearing it. He was glad he didn't have to participate himself. He wasn't that great of an actor – even with all the USO war bond experience – and had barely scraped along in boy-scout fundraising back in the day. Also, he had a thing for punching Nazis, and that didn't work with the whole "sweet-talking-the-bad-guy-thing" Prometheus had perfected. But Prometheus was great. Prometheus's voice was more convincing than the greatest actor's you'd ever heard. He had complete control over the tonal aspect of the language as well – no doubt acquired from the melodious quality of ancient Greek – and whenever he spoke Steve felt like he was sitting around a fireplace with his closest friends, cooking marshmallows.

"Yes, ov course." The guard interjected. He quickly opened the door.

"I cannot join you without my companions." Prometheus said. Before Steve could ask how it happened, the guards had opened their cell doors and let them out of their chains.

Steve only had one thing to ask Prometheus, _Why didn't you do this before?_ But he didn't want to break the magic.

As they walked out the door to the dungeon, he whisked his head to the side as he saw a blur of tawny feathers. In the corner, staring after them, was a glaring barn owl.

* * *

 _A/N: I am envisioning the BBC Merlin, old man Merlin for this Merlin._


End file.
